Kings and Queens
by PicassoWithAPencil
Summary: Every castle needs a king and queen. Even castles in the zombie apocalypse.
When she asked him the questions it seemed like, for once, he had the answers. "Yes, a lot of people died." "Yes, your sister is pregnant." "Yes, Judith is doing fine." But of course, these were the easy questions, the ones that could be answered with short, snippets of answers. And damn was he a fool if he thought she wouldn't ask at least one question that proved to be difficult. "What about you?"

What _about_ him?

What about him mattered in all this? What did it matter that he singlehandedly took out a group of bikers with an RPG, that with that same weapon he set a lake on fire, and that he did it with no fear? What did it matter when no listened to him? What did it matter that he was going back to how he used to be? What did it matter that he walked around like a dead man for two _years_? What did it matter that he carried around the last physical evidence of her on his belt? What did it matter that that evidence was his most prized possession, the Crown Jewels of his dark, ruinated kingdom?

So he answered her single question with seven of his own. She simply looked past him, leaving what might remain of his fractured heart in danger of capsizing in a sea of hurt. She was different too. She had a harder expression on her face than before. Any earlier qualms she may have had about wreaking cessation on this world were gone. Her voice was darker, rougher. Not suitable for singing. "It doesn't matter," she'd said. That tiny string of three words hurt more than a knife to the back. Never would he have caught her saying that. At least not the way she used to be. And that wasn't her anymore.

So he did the thing he never would have said to _anyone else_ , because no one mattered to him more than she did. He took two fingers and gently lifted her downcast chin. And when he looked into those eyes….. Damn. They were just as ravishing as he remembered. However, this time they told a story. And she didn't have to tell him because he saw. He saw the story of her journey. From Grady, to the trunk, to waking up in fear, to being with Negan, and finally, being here with him. He saw the tears swimming in the ocean of her irises, like little fishes desperate for _something_ but too afraid to reach out and let go so they could have it. Her story was veiled in shadows and hopelessness.

But he saw.

He saw.

He saw the same brokenness that festered in his heart after the prison had fallen. A brokenness he knew, from experience, could be mended with the right words and the right actions. So he said the only thing he could think of. "It does matter. Both of us matter." That was her undoing. She set free the fish she had netted for so many seasons and gave them to him. She latched onto him like a child, and he didn't care. She needed this. Dear Lord, she needed this. She was there for him almost three years ago. He would be here for her this time.

And they sat on that porch until the sun began to tiptoe around the sky, trying to give them as much privacy as it could before it woke up everyone and everything else. She had emptied herself into him and given him every demon and every parasite. And he just tossed them aside. Because _those_ things, those _horrible_ things, they didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was them.

When she had finally finished her opera of tears, he let go for just a moment, because you need to sometimes, and went into the house to get something. He had traveled back into the depths of his castle, back to the treasure room. He opened the door and ignored the fact that it was basically an empty husk. Because it wasn't. It had one treasure that all other kingdoms would be hard pressed to own.

It was hers.

Her beautiful blade worn and used in many battles, used by her and himself. He walked out to the porch once more, and was relieved to see she hadn't moved. He bent down and sat at her level. He presented the knife in front of her like a dowry and waited for her reaction. She cupped her hands over her mouth with surprise. She slowly took it from his hands and seemingly weighed it, even though the reasoning behind had absolutely no monetary value. And he shocked himself by saying, "It's all I had left of you."

She looked up at him, and he was shocked to see the amount of love shining there in her gaze. She gently set his kingdom's only possession on the ground, and wrapped her castles arms around the neck of his own, therefore pledging an everlasting allegiance between the two kingdoms. "You don't need that anymore." "I know." "What do you know?" "That I missed you." She let loose a smile only a princess could. No, he corrected himself. A _queen._ That's what she looked like.

A queen to match his king. And all they had between them was simple distance, distance they both should have crossed three years ago. But the one link between them, the one thing they both shared after the tragedy, this knife, that was where they were forever united. This was where, in a fit of love and adoration, Daryl scooped Beth up and carried her inside.

The empty castle had a King and a Queen at last.


End file.
